Life or Death Awaits
by Strider Hunter
Summary: A retiring Strider is assigned one last misson: to Monitor the organization's youngest elite member, Strider Hiryu, on his very first assignment. In a dark, cold and callous world, there are many lessons that even the best warrior must learn.
1. Prologue

_*** Strider Hiryu and all things pertaining to the Striders are copyright Capcom Entertainment. I don't own any of their material in this story, only my original work. Hope you enjoy._

**Prologue**

      Striders exist.

      In a world teetering on the brink of oblivion, racked with uncertainty over whether mankind can prevent its own destruction, the Striders must exist. Virtue, honor, integrity, responsibility, courage—these are the marks of a Strider, and in such a bleak world we uphold these merits for others to see, to emulate so that they are not forever lost.

      By 2046 A.D., humanity had attained great advances in technology and biological engineering. Machines—both automatons and androids—perform many daily tasks for their human masters. Cities reach previously unimaginable heights, towering skyscrapers that puncture the airspace teeming with flying vehicles and other aircraft. With these advances, however, inevitably comes the flip side of things. Law and order is barely competent, crime is epidemic. Mutants—those failed genetic experiments that live to tell the tale—often rebel and stir up trouble in the streets. Along with the eradication of mankind's hardships followed indolence, vice, and apathy. Pollution from the great metropolises spews upward and darkens much our skies. In these times the primal instinct to survive reigns, and there is not much else to hope for.

      You may or may not be surprised by the statement, "Striders exist." Perhaps you have never heard of the Striders, or perhaps you know of rumors, whispered here and there in dark places, of our existence. Moving shadows, skilled and lethal, never leaving a trace other than the destroyed remains of their target, both human and non-human. Striding through the moral corruption and the decay of civilization, we are for many a last beacon of hope.

      But what are the Striders, you ask? There have been many definitions portraying us over the decades. Some have labeled us ninja, after the skilled stealth assassins of old, or a futuristic incarnation of the ninja. True, targeted assassinations turn up frequently in our assignments, but we do not consider ourselves assassins. Some have called us programmed cyborg agents, mercenaries hired by governments to topple other regimes. Despite our extensive use of technology, the Striders in essence are still very much human. And no, we do not take orders from any government. Ours is a higher purpose. Some have gone so far as to describing our activities as supernatural or paranormal. Spirits, demons, even extraterrestrials…so unexplained is the myth of our existence. 

      In truth, we are all of these portrayals and at the same time none of them. It's hard to explain what we are to those that are not included in our ranks. To fully understand what it means to be a Strider, you must strive to become one of us.

      For the past sixteen years, I have served as a devoted, dedicated Strider. Our cause and purpose remain just to the few of us that are left, yet our actions become increasingly insignificant with each passing day. Fifty years ago the Striders enjoyed their heydey, literally making a difference in the world; in the past decade or so, our numbers rapidly declined. The future does not bode well for us, and anxiety over our extinction runs rampant.

      Perhaps because of this anxiety, I recently decided to retire from my long service. I had submitted my resignation to the Vice Directors' Office some weeks ago, and still have yet to hear of their decision. A moot point, really. When a Strider resigns, it is no light matter.

      So a few days ago I preoccupied myself in the Records Office, destroying my own files and mission dossiers. Once retired, a Strider would never be heard from again. I rather looked forward to that, regaining my anonymity. Not many Striders live long enough to retire, and those that do go into seclusion. Yes, I really looked forward to that. When not at Headquarters I traveled to the mainland and drowned my sorrows in liquor, a newly discovered pleasure of mine. For me, hope became lost. Soon the Striders would disband, and whatever fate befell the planet would be.

      And then—suddenly, unexpectedly—hope sprung eternal again. Word came from Headquarters (and spread to all the remaining Striders around the world) that a new cadet had just graduated to the prestigious A class, a rank that most Striders cannot attain. A remarkable feat in itself; there was only one other living A class Strider, the Director. But there was more: the newest Strider was the youngest man ever to achieve A class. We all knew what that meant. Clearly, there was something very special about this youth. His potential, no doubt, could grow immensely and perhaps, invigorate and inspire a new generation of Striders.

      The message sent to me that day read brief and plain. The young Strider's name was Hiryu, and he would be sent on his first preliminary mission in 24 hours. In addition, there stated a short, final assignment for me as well: 

_                                                                                          Follow Hiryu in secret and Monitor him._

      I understood. My retirement was to be delayed for just a bit longer…


	2. Last Assignment

**Last Assignment**

      Rain.

      In a metropolis like Neo Hong Kong, rain didn't fall in drops; it fell in torrents. Alkaline water, slight acidic precipitation…most types of rain were harmless to organic life. Everyone feared the sulfur showers, the more toxic form that dissolved lesser metals and bare skin.

      It simply rained water on this particular evening. The night skies opened up, swelled and merciless, pouring heavily onto the city below. On neon-lighted streets, the denizens of Neo Hong Kong went about their business as normal, drenched but thankful that it wasn't another acid storm. The rain, like the air they breathed, was just a daily routine in their lives. Few remembered the times of old, when there existed an actual difference between day and night, when a bright sun lighting the skies was not just a memory.

      One of those who _did_ remember now walked unnoticed among the masses. A middle-aged man in his late thirties, with sharp dark eyes, dressed in a trench coat and wide-brimmed hat. His manner seemed cautious and reserved as he strided through the crowded walkways, as if growing accustomed to walking alongside others. Like any other night, the man needed a few drinks and was headed to his new favorite bar.

      Life as a civilian took some getting used to, but by no means did he find it difficult. He found his new existence rather amusing at times, knowing that his trained eye noticed thousands of little bits of information that the average man or woman on the street wouldn't even be aware of. A loathsome pimp lurking here, a junkie addicted to smack barely breathing there. Whispers in the dark alleys, the faint cough of someone looking down at you from a high window. A siren wailing some miles in the distance, toward the northwest. All random things, barely noticeable through the rain splashing into the ground. All seemingly disconnected, yet in reality constituted pieces of a much larger scene that his mind documented systematically, objectively. Yes, he really needed that drink now.

      Out in front, police lights flashed ominously. Small clusters of folks had gathered, their curiosity beaten back by the reprimands of wearied officers. A young woman lay dead on the wet pavement, a prostitute. The back of her head had been blown apart, for God knows what reason; her brains and blood mixed remarkably well with the rainwater. Back in the old days people would cover up a corpse exposed to the public, out of decency. That practice would sound ludicrous in modern times; what was the point? Violence like this happened every minute, it was foolish to deny the truth. As he entered the bar, the dark-eyed man caught one last glance at the dead girl. If he hadn't been so hardened already, a part of him would have felt a little sympathy.

      The bar inside looked just as it did every night; in fact, all his nights were starting to feel the same. Noisy, stifling, dim-lighted, enough people for just the right amount of anonymity. Everything was the same, of course; only _he_ didn't feel the same. Not after the message he had received last night. He seated himself at the counter, where one of the bartenders recognized her most mysterious patron.

      "Nice night for a walk, eh partner?" she asked, her tone and nod referring to the scene outside.

      The dark-eyed man returned her nod grimly. "I've seen worse."

      His eyes told the barmaid that he'd also _done_ worse sometime in his life; she smiled, trying not to look overtly curious. "So what'll it be tonight?"

      "I think I'll have that drink you suggested the other night, that 'White Russian, double or nothing.' It sounds intriguing."

      The barmaid smiled in amusement. He had grown fond of her lately, she being one of the few friendly faces he had encountered during civilian life. Regrettably, he did not know—nor would he seek out—her name. Too much trouble involved.

      "White Russian double, coming up." She paused, looking pensive for a moment, then reached below the counter. "By the way, I found this inside before I opened up tonight. Figured it might be for you, partner." She held out a plain white envelope and handed it to him. Written on one side was, "_To the silent one_."

     The dark-eyed man stared at the envelope for a bit. "Perhaps it is. Thank you." He waited until she went away to open it. Inside, a plain piece of paper, a note written in elegant calligraphy. He recognized the first seal design below the message all too well:

_                                                                                                           I await you outside_.

                                                                                                                       § 伝

      The barmaid returned with his drink. "Good news? Bad? I can hardly tell with you."

      Calmly, he placed the entire message into a coat pocket. "More like _expected_ news," he replied. "Expected, and disappointing." With a single motion, the man swept up the glass and downed the drink in a gulp. Then he looked up at the barmaid, through the thick haze of cigarette smoke permeating the whole bar, for what may be the last time. She was prettier than he had previously thought. Short lilac-dyed hair, lean chin, dimples when she smiled. Pretty, and unsentimental. She would no doubt have a wonderful life in the future. "Thanks for the drink."

      With that, the man placed some money on the counter, and then briskly left the bar. He didn't look back…his gaze fell only on the falling rain outside.

                                                                                                                          ~

      The meeting place was to be a location away from prying eyes, somewhere inaccessible to civilians. That he knew, for they had all been trained to think the same way. He went toward the rear of the bar, in the shadowed alleyways festered with garbage and vermin. Not a soul in sight. Above him, steel catwalks stretched across adjacent buildings, some firm, some dangling dangerously unfastened. No unusual sounds, save for the occasional crack of thunder overhead.

      With little effort, the man leaped incredibly high and caught hold of one steel railing, swinging upward. He caught another rail, swinging once more, and suddenly he now stood on the roof of the small bar. The blacktop looked deserted, slicked with rain; dark and foreboding, with many hiding places.

      He had expected to be contacted after receiving the message the previous night, but not so soon. Were they actually trying to force his hand?

      A light step behind him, barely audible that only his trained hearing would detect it. He turned slowly, unafraid and undaunted, to look upon a colleague. A slender figure stepped from the shadows on a wall above him. A young woman no less, outfitted in a uniform of her own design. She wore a dark crimson _gi_, sheathing her body from head to foot, exposing only her eyes. Long black hair protruded in individual spikes from her cowl, draping her face. Shoulder armor and forearm guards, in addition to the metallic belt suspended around her waist, glimmered from the neon lights below.

      The man didn't even need to see the design patchwork on her left breast to know who—or what—she was. The very color of her uniform told him as much. "Vermillion," he said simply, more like a statement.

      The young woman scoffed under her breath. "Civilian life does not suit you. Even from my vantage point, you stick out in the crowds like a novice. So it is true; you now wither away in _those_ kinds of establishments, drinking poison! What a waste." Her voice sounded feminine and prim. Disapproval edged her tone, but by no means did she imply disrespect.

      Feeling somewhat comfortable again, the dark-eyed man relaxed his tensed muscles. "That is no consequence of yours, but thank you for sharing your thoughts. Now, what brings you all this way to see me, young Strider?"

      Strider Vermillion deftly jumped down from the wall in a catlike motion, and then faced him. As all sword-wielding Striders do, her right hand stayed constantly gripped on the handle of her cypher blade, strapped behind her small waist. Her left hand pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Didn't you receive the Vice Director's message last night?"

      Casually, he shrugged. "I did."

      "Then why didn't you contact Vice Director Matic immediately after?" Vermillion demanded. "He waited to hear your decision; when he didn't, he sent me to find you."

      "I left my transmitter and my comlink back at Headquarters. It must have slipped my mind." He paused, glaring slightly at the young woman. He knew Vermillion in passing; he had attended her graduation to B class, some years ago. "I _am_ in the process of retiring, you know."

      Vermillion remained motionless. "Here then. I brought my own comlink for you to use. You may contact Vice Director now." She slid a thin, palm-sized console from her belt and held it out to him, waiting.

      The dark-eyed man suddenly felt aggravated. He had submitted his resignation, cleanly and with honor weeks ago. He had expected a quick approval. _Now he had to accept an assignment forced upon him?_ Even though he received news of this assignment, he hadn't really taken it seriously. He had considered it a mistake. It was highly unusual to assign a retiring Strider such a late mission. Of course, the mission _itself_ was highly unusual…

      Submitting, he took the console and opened the video link. The image sharpened, and Vice Director Matic appeared as though he had been listening to the entire conversation. "Glad to know a sense of duty still brims in our veterans," the Vice Director quipped over the com.

      "My sense of duty's been filed away, just like my resignation should have been," the man shot back. "What do you want from me, Matic?"

      The Vice Director chuckled. An Englishman, Strider Matic rose quickly through the ranks of B class Striders to become second in command of the organization. Cool and calculating, Matic oversaw nearly every aspect of every covert operation in the world. As such, he was known to demand and expect fierce loyalty from the Striders under his command. "What I've always asked of you, old friend. I need a job done."

      "Then find someone else! I'm through, remember?"

      "Well I'm afraid it's not that simple. Quite frankly, you're the only one qualified for the task. You are—or were—the best Monitor that we ever had. Of course new monitors are being trained as we speak, but we need _you_. This is an extraordinary assignment, after all."

      "I know. I know it is. It's incredible, really…"

      "Then why don't you accept? We need your valuable input. Hiryu could quite possibly be the best we've ever trained. Bullocks, it could be that _he's_ the one who has trained _us_! But Hiryu has never left Moralos Island; he hasn't got that 'real world' experience. So I just want you to look after him on his preliminary assignment. What do you say?"

      "What I've already said. Find someone else. There are plenty that are just as experienced as I am."

      "But no one has _your_ experience, that's the point!" A pause. "As an added incentive, I've talked it over with the Director, and we've agreed to a compromise if you accept."

      "I'm listening."

      "Well if you accept, I can guarantee you that your resignation _and_ approval will be taken care of immediately. No questions, no bureaucratic nonsense. You retire, you're free to leave us, plain as day. Is it a deal, old friend?"

      The dark-eyed man reflected on this proposal, feeling a little surprised. All being said, it sounded fair enough. Paperwork could take another six months to finish, and in all that time he could still be tracked and never left alone to start a new life. What was another Monitoring assignment to him anyway? One more task, and he would be done with it.

      "No strings attached?"

      "None. You have my word."

      "All right, Matic," he breathed finally. "I'll monitor Hiryu. Just to speed up my resignation. But I'd like to see him in action for myself as well."

      "Splendid!" Matic looked beside himself, his eyes looking ecstatic behind his shaded spectacles. "You're doing us a last great service, old friend. Hiryu's operation begins at 0200 hours. Vermillion will provide all the information you need to follow him. I expect a report from you after each objective accomplished, and a final report after the overall mission has been completed. That said, good hunting…it should be interesting. Matic out."

      The link went dead abruptly, but the dark-eyed man really didn't have much else to say. He handed the console back to Vermillion. "I suppose this means that we're going to be partners?"

      "Not so much as partners, but associates." The young woman stood upright, her right hand still gripped on her cypher, but now looking more relaxed. Her dark red _gi_ appeared less threatening. "You may consider me your assistant."

      He looked away, contemplating what would happen in the next few days or even weeks. He'd have to give it his all for this assignment. A bold new world for the Striders might be coming, and he was on his way out. Ah, well. He'd already had his share of triumphs and losses, miraculous survivals and shattering heartaches. This was going to be his last mission, and what better way to end than with possibly the best there ever existed? Strider Hiryu—already a legend among their ranks before the young man even began his vocation.

      "I need to get my things, we haven't much time." Without hesitation, he leapt off the building and landed silently into the dark alley below. Strider Vermillion followed just as noiselessly, two shadows moving among shadows.

      "How should I address you?" Vermillion asked in a hushed voice. The young woman stalked beside him, barely making a sound. "In your own eyes, you don't even consider yourself one of us anymore."

      The man pondered for a moment. "Just use my codename, at least for a little while longer. Hunter. That's fine, isn't it?"

      Strider Vermillion's eyes narrowed as they approached the open street. "Very well, Strider Hunter…at least for a little while longer. I will see you again soon."

      A light breeze against him in the driving rain. He turned to find young Vermillion gone, like a shadow vanquished by the light.

      Overhead the skies remained gloomy and overcast. A few feet above, the downpour cascaded off the bar's roof in a surging waterfall. Soon he was on the streets again, mingling with the rest of Neo Hong Kong's people. In a single night, his world had transformed again. His former life could never be left behind, much like one could never leave the storm clouds behind. The dark-eyed man felt each droplet of water pelt the soaked fabric of his trench coat, striking him in harmless fashion one by one. In a way, they felt almost alive.

      The rain never let up when he wanted it to. It never would.


	3. Briefing

**Briefing**

      The dark-eyed man felt somewhat uncomfortable as he undressed, aware that Vermillion's eyes watched directly behind him.

      The young female Strider stood at attention in the center of the bedroom, right hand gripping her cypher blade as usual. She had followed him back to his apartment after the meeting, hovering on the rooftops to avoid civilian contact. Secrecy remained a foremost priority to the organization.

      As he took off the last of his civilian clothes, however, Hunter felt he didn't have any more secrets left to hide.

      "Hiryu has four objectives in his assignment." Vermillion recited the mission briefing in a stoic, mechanical way typical of young Striders. "All deal with the military weapons developer, GeissTech Weapons Systems. In the past this company supplied the richest nations with state-of-the-art military hardware. Recently GeissTech had a falling out with its buyers and now struggles to get its products on the market."

      She paused to watch the now nude Hunter retrieve a heavy storage trunk from the closet. In it lay his own unique Strider attire. Jet-black _gi_ and mask, dark red body armor and gauntlets, and a single metallic belt. In an almost ritualistic manner, the dark-eyed man began to dress.

      Vermillion continued. "We have received reports that GeissTech has developed a new type of armament, one that has never been made known to its former buyers. A prototype MechFrame is now complete and ready for mass production. The threat is that due to its financial troubles, GeissTech has entered contracts to supply these MechFrames to rogue nations. You know what that means, Strider Hunter. With such powerful belligerent technology, these nations can destabilize the entire planet and could possibly lead to a fourth world war. Therefore, Strider Hiryu has been sent to destroy this company and the MechFrame before mass production begins."

      Hunter finished dressing, then faced the young woman with only his eyes revealed behind the mask. Vermillion couldn't help but feel a little impressed; the dark-eyed man very much resembled the _ninja_ of old, her ancestors.

      "This mission comes from the highest authority?" he asked.

      "From the Director himself. He is a prudent and old enough man to see threats before they materialize, we all know that."

      Hunter nodded. A last reach into the trunk revealed his sole weapon, a short cypher blade he had named "Striker." With unnatural grace, he slid the polished blade into the belt behind his back.

      "What are the objectives?"

      Vermillion held out a console image inducer, which displayed holographic surveillance photos as she spoke. "Objective One: Hiryu will infiltrate GeissTech headquarters in Seattle, U.S.A. and eliminate Bernard Vyson, executive president and chief administrative officer. Male, age 45, divorced, surrounded by personal guards. Vyson is the man directly handling the contracts and negotiations with rogue nations. Once he is eliminated it will be impossible for the company to exist.

      "Objective Two: Hiryu will destroy all information concerning the MechFrame project. This will also occur at GeissTech headquarters, in storage databases located in secured vaults.

      "Objective Three: Hiryu will infiltrate the subterranean MechFrame development facility in Virginia, U.S.A and destroy the MechFrame prototype. Name is short for 'mechanized exoframe.' Designed as personal armament battle suits, these machines are more efficient and destructive than conventional military hardware. Standing twenty-feet tall, protected by composite armor layers, heavily armed with GeissTech's most advanced weapons systems, limited flight capability. The key is that these machines are _highly_ _mobile_; a mere dozen MechFrames could lay waste to an entire city in a single day. Weakness is the pilot operating chamber—neutralize the soldier inside, and the MechFrame is incapacitated. Hiryu will also eliminate Emory Miller, Chandra Singh, and Toyotomi Higashi, the three engineers who designed the MechFrame."

      As he memorized the faces, the dark-eyed man felt anxious for the first time in a long time. Vermillion's image inducer hadn't shown a surveillance photo of the MechFrame itself, only a blueprint design. This meant only one thing: the Striders had no idea what the actual prototype was _really_ capable of. He had always felt uneasy about going into a mission with only partial information; he wondered about young Hiryu's reaction during his own briefing.

      "And the last objective?"

      "Objective Four: Hiryu will infiltrate the vacation home—in Marseilles, France—of the founder of GeissTech, Edmund Geiss, and eliminate him. Male, age 52, married. A once-brilliant businessman who has since fallen from grace. The house is lightly guarded and should pose no serious threat. Geiss' immediate family will also be eliminated: Zoe his wife, female, age 29; and last Zachary, his son, age 7. Confirm all three deaths, and you may make your final report to Vice Director Matic. It is now four hours before Hiryu begins his mission."

      Vermillion finished speaking and handed him the image inducer to keep.

      The dark-eyed man took it and quickly slid it onto his belt. The anxiety from before suddenly intensified, if briefly. Something did not feel right about killing the young boy. True, he had never wavered on his own assassination missions, which had indeed included small children. Perhaps it was because he was older now and less cynical. He had an assignment to complete, and he would. But he wondered what raw emotions young Strider Hiryu would feel after he killed his first child…

      Suddenly irritated at himself, Hunter shook his mind out of the gloom. When did he ever let thoughts like that intrude? "All right then. Thanks for the briefing. Are you coming with me?"

      "I will be close. Although he never mentioned it, Vice Director Matic also wanted me to accompany you so that I would learn your methods. I am training to be your replacement."

      "Is that so?" A small laugh escaped him. He hadn't known the young woman for long, but Hunter could see that she would be perfect for the position. Monitoring required absolute objectivity and the complete control of emotions. The Code of Monitors required one to be only an observer, never a participant, even if the fellow Strider being monitored was in trouble. He himself had seen many well-trained yet inexperienced Striders meet their death in battle, but the code of his position as Monitor prevented him from doing anything to help. In a way, being a Monitor made him feel cold and heartless, much like the gods of man who allowed the bleak world to fall into disorder.

      He took one last glance at his apartment, a reminder that soon he would be a civilian. Cluttered with junk, possessions in disarray, broken windows, stifling air pierced by the rain falling outside. His life never looked so hopeless.

      "Makes me want to reconsider my retirement," he chuckled aloud. Silence in his apartment told him that he was now alone.

      Vermillion had vanished before he knew it. She was good.

      His mind clear, Strider Hunter leapt out of the window and into the rainy night cityscape.


	4. Enter Hiryu First Objective

**Enter Hiryu / First Objective**

      GeissTech Corporation housed its headquarters, on the outskirts of Seattle, in a rather pompous fashion. An angular, three-story building made of polished glass and steel, surrounded by fields of green space and concrete parking lots. It stood—proud and dominant—just a few hundred meters away from the highway, miles from the hordes of the city.

      On this cloudy evening all seemed serene, and nothing out of the ordinary presented itself. But to watchful eyes, this was only the appearance of things. For of all the guardsmen patrolling the grounds and security cameras sweeping the checkpoints, none noticed the silent figure perched on the very rooftop of GeissTech's grand nerve center.

      Strider Hunter crouched atop the edge of the roof, unaccompanied and completely invisible to the rest of the world. Invisibility dictated the very crux of monitoring, and thankfully his older Stealth Imager still functioned properly. The device made him transparent, bending light and warping his outline, blending him with the dark skies. In this manner, none could detect him—not even other Striders.

      An important point, concerning this final mission. If he was to monitor young Hiryu, his presence could not be made known. From his position Hunter gazed down and carefully observed the surroundings. Three guards below cycled around the perimeter exactly every seven minutes; robotic sentries patrolled the grassy fields, lethally armed. GeissTech had many enemies, and their leaders weren't fools. The target, Bernard Vyson, maintained his office on the top floor away from any potential ground attacks. Hunter had caught a glimpse of him on his climb up. Stocky, brimming with confidence behind the desk at which he worked. Completely unaware that he was about to die.

      Hunter glanced at his watch: 0155 hours. Just a few minutes before Hiryu's mission officially began. It would start soon now.

      Deviating from his normal _modus operandi_, Hunter allowed his mind to wander for mere seconds. A dozen questions assaulted him; how good would Hiryu be? Would the young Strider have some detrimental reaction after his first kill? Would inexperience lead him to falter his hand? Would the heat of battle cloud his judgment, or worse, confuse him? And there were others. A sudden thought occurred, a feeling that he did not wish to see any more of his colleagues die meaninglessly.

_      Stay on the task at hand_. The harsh inner voice guided Hunter back, and he felt ashamed. If Vermillion watched him—and he felt sure she was—she might have noticed the slight shift in his stance.

      At 0159 hours, Hunter saw a dark object approach from the eastern sky. Silent, moving rapidly toward the building…toward the _roof_. Closer still it came, yet Hunter already knew what it was. A Glider, the vehicle of choice for most Striders on field missions, built for speed and stealth. Hiryu had arrived.

      With just the barest of sounds, Strider Hiryu jettisoned from the Glider and landed gently on his feet. The Glider remained aloft, arcing higher into the sky and circled in a holding pattern. Hiryu then stood upright, only meters away from where Hunter perched.

      Hunter trained his breathing and remained motionless, despite being visually undetectable. Here at last stood the young Strider that many spoke so highly of, about to begin his first assignment. Hiryu was dressed in a blue _gi_ and red facemask. His long cypher blade—said to be named _Falchion_—looked unusually deadly in his grip. His dark eyes spoke of unrelenting determination. Hunter felt indeed privileged; other than Vermillion, he would be the first to witness Hiryu and judge him for his merits.

      Strider Hiryu closed his eyes briefly—as if he were meditating—then suddenly leapt over the side of the roof. Hunter, as he officially began his monitoring, nearly had to do a double take; Hiryu had moved so fast that everything in his mind registered in slow motion. In mid-leap, Hiryu extended his left arm and gouged a large grappling hook into the roof's ledge; at the same time, the young Strider stiffened his legs in a perpendicular position, pointing his toes toward the glass window of Bernard Vyson's office…

                                                                                                                          ~

      Bernard Vyson loved working late. In the later evening hours, when everyone had left, he could think better. No employees trouncing about, no secretaries or messengers hounding him about the next board meeting. Just comforting silence, save for the hum of the water cooler in the hallway. During his marriage he found it difficult to stay late, especially when the second affair began. Now without a questioning wife, he could fuck any young intern he wanted without any hassle.

      There would be no action tonight, though. Vyson had to draw up the final draft papers, legal documents that would fence for the illegal and highly immoral negotiations with his newest friends. Black market weapons sales were a serious matter, and he'd eat shit before screwing up an opportunity like this.

      "All done." Vyson chuckled triumphantly as he scribbled his name on the documents. Tomorrow he and the accounting team would meet with representatives from the buyers and close the deal. That would save the company, the only thing that mattered. What the rogue countries did with the merchandise was their own affair.

      Satisfied on a job well done, Vyson reached across his desk for his stamp seal. Instead he watched with complete shock when the wall-length windows of his office shattered in a strange crystalline melody. Large sheets of cracked glass flew at him, some shards tearing at his exposed face, some clinking harmlessly on the desk. Vyson sat staggered for a few moments, his mind trying to figure out what had happened. His eyes became even wider as a lean, menacing figure approached him from the void of the night.

      "Who the FUCK are you?!"

      The figure dressed in weird clothes, like ninja clothes, but there was nothing obscure about the long sword he carried. A killing sword. The ninja's eyes were closed for a moment, but then opened with a burning fury, staring right at him.

      "Bernard Vyson." The voice sounded harsh, unforgiving.

      "Who the hell do you think you are?!" Alarms began blaring all around the complex, and Vyson's confidence grew. His men would be here in mere seconds to defend him. "What the hell do you want, breaking my windows? Into my fucking OFFICE?! I'll have you arrested—"

      The ninja waved his left hand slowly, as if to silence him. It worked. "Because of you, people around the world would suffer. People would die in the wars you gave life with your weapons." There was definite anger when he spoke, and perhaps even a hint of pity. The ninja shook his head slowly, as if to say that Vyson would never understand.

      The president of GeissTech backed away immediately. "What the hell are you talking about?"

      The armored ninja came closer, his eyes staring, his right arm gripping the sword. "Power and greed has corrupted your soul. You would take lives for your own benefit." Another shake of the head. "Selfish ambition is the root of the world's pain. To help end that pain, you must forfeit your life."

      Vyson's mouth dropped open when the ninja unsheathed his sword with a metallic _shing!_ sound. The glare of overhead lights glimmered on the blade, he could see his own reflection. "Wait a minute!" Vyson began pleading. "Wait a fucking MINUTE! Please, you don't need to do this! We can talk this over! Look, how much are they paying you? I'll double, no TRIPLE it! I can make you rich!"

      He received no response…just the swinging of the sword and the cold hard eyes.

      "Please, don't kill me! Please DON'T--!" Vyson stopped speaking abruptly when the first slash ripped apart his ample belly. His eyes looked down and bulged on seeing the writhing, purplish guts spill out in a wet continuous stream. One last look saw the final flash of light, and then Vyson's lifeless head bounced harmlessly onto the floor. Blood gushed violently from the open wounds, spilling and staining the window shards into glittering rubies.

      Alone now, Hiryu stood in the blood now pooling from the still-warm corpse. More blood dripped slowly from Falchion's razor edge. He stared hard at the body, taking in the moment that was his first kill.

      And then, he nodded confidently to himself. "Objective complete."

      With the alarms still flashing and blaring around him, Hiryu stepped swiftly over the body, his padded feet crunching glass as he strided out of the office.


	5. Second Objective

**Second Objective**

      Strider Hunter remained clung to the ceiling of the office, upside-down and still cloaked by his stealth imager. There he had witnessed the completion of Hiryu's first objective: the elimination of Bernard Vyson. Precise, efficient, and lethal. Hiryu took perhaps a little too much time conversing with the target, a trivial matter that he wouldn't mention to Vice Director Matic.

      As soon as Hiryu left the office, Hunter dropped noiselessly from the ceiling to his feet. He approached the now cooling corpse of the target and simply stared at it. Distasteful and dishonorable, how the pathetic man had met his end; pleading for his life, not even attempting to fight for a chance. He didn't even deserve the merciful speed of his death, and in that Hiryu showed his humanity.

      Humanity?

      _Hunter's own first kill had not been so forgiving. An elderly priest, one whose family had gotten too close to a vast crime syndicate. The priest needed to be silenced, and there had been fear in the old man's eyes, too. Fear, but not cowardice…he met his end with dignity. Hunter remembered those defiant eyes as he slashed the old priest's throat. It took a long time for him to die, the faint gurgling resounding in his ears until he breathed no more. Hunter had walked away from it, pleased at the time. Perhaps a part of his humanity had died with him, there on that cold wet street..._

      Screams suddenly echoed through the halls outside the office, wrenching back Hunter through time. Sounds of heavy weapons fire and a cypher blade slicing through metal and flesh. _Hiryu is much quicker than I thought_. Hunter sprinted out of the office, hurriedly recording his monitoring report.

      Down several corridors lay mangled and eviscerated corpses…the torn bodies of Vyson's personal guards and security forces. Blood stained everything, spattered on the walls and carpeting, linking the carcasses in a demonic crimson pool. Among them the wreckage of robotic sentries, their machine-gun turrets still smoldering. At the end of the hall Hunter saw the gaping elevator shafts, the elevator doors slashed open and aside. Hiryu was already on his way to destroy the database vaults.

      The rank air beside Hunter abruptly warped and distorted, until the slender figure of Vermillion materialized. Her eyes went wide as she spoke. "How could Hiryu have survived this…this _assault_ without stealth or assistance? They outnumbered him ten to one, all heavily armed, and yet he plowed directly through them!"

      No response came. He found himself gazing upon the massacre in silence, now sure that there was more to come. Truly it was a sight to behold.

      "Come on," he finally said, sprinting toward the elevator shafts. "We've got to keep moving."

                                                                                                                          ~

      The underground vaults holding GeissTech's information databases proved to be secure indeed. Five rectangular rooms of reinforced composite steel, access code entry only. All containing computer systems and data storage of all the company's important files, documents, designs, blueprints, etc. Designed to be impregnable. A lesser man would have aborted his mission, but a Strider would die trying.

      Hiryu hacked apart the last robotic sentry with ease, sending its circuitry flying in all directions. It was relatively simple to dispatch the machines and the few human guards that confronted him, but more would be coming and would consume his strength and time. He still had not broken through the first vault door yet, and there were four more vaults to be destroyed. Hiryu stood back from the door and with both hands on his Falchion blade, swung fiercely upward. The already-weakened slab of metal screeched a last time as it split itself down the middle, finally allowing access to the treasure within.

      Wasting no time, Hiryu set to work. A series of slashes here and there, and the electronic devices crumbled in a shower of metal and electricity, ruined and unable to be salvaged. This room was done, but four remained. There had to be an easier way to destroy them all.

      Behind him approached rapid footsteps. Hiryu leapt into the air and somersaulted just as ferocious gunfire burst into the room. The stunned guards reacted too slowly as Hiryu landed behind them in the blink of an eye. The Strider slashed high and spun low with another sweep of the blade, and two human guards fell aside—decapitated and halved at the waist. Amid the spurting bodies the last guard opened fire and sprayed his bullets frantically at the inhuman _thing_. Hiryu held Falchion up vertically and blocked the on-target rounds, then retaliated with lightning fast speed. The guard collapsed in a heap, dead before his shriek could echo through the vaults.

      Time was still against him, for reinforcements in their sheer numbers could still overpower his efforts. There just _had_ to be another way to obliterate the remaining targets. Hiryu thought a few moments in a rushed but sustained manner. An idea hit him suddenly, one that might work if executed correctly. His focus shifting, Hiryu raced out of the vaults and farther down the dimly lit corridor.

                                                                                                                          ~

      Hunter and Vermillion pressed themselves against the walls as they saw Hiryu dash past them, unaware of their invisible presence. They looked on as he turned a dark corner and vanished.

      "Where is he going?" Vermillion asked in a low voice. "Objective Two has not been completed."

      Hunter noted the young woman's concern. He too wondered what strategy was developing in Hiryu's mind. "Wait here." Without a sound he gave chase, preparing himself for anything.

      Down the dark winding passage, Hunter felt his legs straining to keep up. Maybe he was getting too old for this after all. Unlike Hiryu, who seemed like a relentless machine with his speed and agility. And the proficiency in which the young Strider had cut down all those guards…amazing. After Vyson, what were a dozen more killings to him? Killing was one of those things that got easier each time, for better or worse.

      At last Hunter came upon another long corridor, the end of which stood double doors that had been ripped through. From where he stood more slashing sounds came from within. Confused, Hunter glanced around for any clues, wondering what business Hiryu had down there. Then he saw the warning signs pointing down the corridor: "Power Core Generator." Realization hit home, and Hunter narrowed his eyes as he looked back toward the end of the hall.

      The first rumbling came with a muted blast, shaking the very earth beneath his feet. Then came another, and another, until he heard the largest and loudest explosion yet. The ground trembled continuously now, and at the end of the corridor orange light intensified. Suddenly a huge fireball emerged from the generator room, like an awakened, angry behemoth from its lair. And directly in front of it raced Strider Hiryu.

      In astonishment, Hunter didn't even realize the oncoming threat until the blue streak that was Hiryu had dashed past him. In an instant Hunter followed, already feeling the waves of heat wash over him from behind. _Hiryu means to wipe out the entire complex! _The devastating explosions had started to bring the building down; large chunks of concrete rained down as obstacles. Hunter kept on Hiryu's trail, knowing that he had to get Vermillion out of there as well. Up the winding passage, he broke away from the direction Hiryu dashed, turning left toward the vaults.

      He saw Vermillion standing near the open doorway, yelling something at him. But all he could hear was the deafening roar of the angry flare rolling behind him. "Run!" was all he could shout, and took hold of the young woman's arm. She understood, and kept beside him as they both dashed upward toward the stairs, hoping that there was a quick way out. They reached the first floor lobby and acting on pure instinct, crashed through the windows and to the outside.

      Both Striders sprinted out onto the fields and dove behind a knoll, just as the underground explosions swelled to the breaking point. All at once, the entire building erupted. Entire floors gave way as the thundering explosions blew up and outward, culminating in a gigantic blaze toward the sky. Within moments, glass and debris rained down everywhere as the once powerful GeissTech headquarters was now reduced to fiery rubble.

      Calmly, though he was grateful to be still in one piece, Hunter glanced over to Vermillion. She laid on her side, awake and alive, her eyes blinking as if to remind herself the reality of it all. "Are you all right?" he shouted over the smaller explosions filling the air. She only nodded; behind the mask he could see her lips trying to form words, but to no avail. Not an unusual reaction, considering they had almost been flash-fried. He would just shrug it aside, remembering even closer calls, but the young woman would undoubtedly never forget what had happened here.

      With a satisfied sigh, he looked up. Above them, the outline of a Glider sped away from the area, rocketing to the east coast. His objectives completed, Strider Hiryu sped to his next destination.

      "This is turning out to be more than I bargained for," Hunter said to no one in particular. But this still remained an important mission for him, and to all the Striders. If Hiryu, who was merely at the starting point of his vocation, was capable of such skill, then imagine what he could do in his prime. Perhaps their future looked brighter after all, with Hiryu leading the way. He would be a force to be reckoned with, and then some.

      He reached on his belt and signaled his own Glider, doing the same for the still-stunned Vermillion. What little rest they could get along the way would be welcome, but for now they had to get going after Hiryu.

      There were still two more objectives to be completed.


End file.
